


Draco Malfoy's Domestic Rehabilitation Service

by suitesamba



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Double Penetration, Humor, M/M, Object Penetration, Sex Toys, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Auror Harry injures his back during sex with Severus, the Ministry sends a therapist to help them avoid future injuries by teaching them back friendly sexual positions. But when Draco Malfoy steps out of their Floo, all bets are off. Draco may think he’s got the upper hand, but he soon finds out who’s in charge in the Snape/Potter household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draco Malfoy's Domestic Rehabilitation Service

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Snarry-a-Thon 2015 to Prompt 167: Harry hurts his back trying a new position with Severus. When he goes to St. Mungo's he is horrified to discover that the healer has assigned ____ to show him and Severus good body mechanics for sex. Hot threesome or humor.
> 
> Thanks to writcraft for the Britpick.

“This is the most humiliating moment of my life.”

“This is not the most humiliating moment of your life,” Severus calmly countered, holding Harry’s hands firmly by the wrists. “You do recall the time Andromeda Tonks Floo-called while you were trussed up on the hearth rug?”

“Severus – please….” Harry winced. “Owww! Don’t touch me!”

“Mr. Potter – I’m afraid touching you is non-negotiable.”

The emergency mediwitch who’d stepped out of their Floo moments before pressed again on his lower back. A jolt of pain that made the Cruciatus feel like a high five shot from his back to his toes. They curled in protest and he cried out again, grabbing Severus’ hand and squeezing so hard his knuckles cracked.

“I don’t want to be naked anymore,” he whined. “Can’t you cover me up?” 

“No,” answered Severus and the mediwitch at the same time. Severus’ voice was steady and calm. The mediwitch sounded sharp and a bit annoyed.

“Be still,” said Severus, putting more pressure on Harry’s wrists. “Let her work.”

“You’re dressed. Why do you get to be dressed?” He was acting like a child, but damn it, he _hurt._ It wasn’t Severus’ fault – well, it _was_ his fault. He’d been the one to bend Harry practically in half and fuck the living daylights out of him.

“I get to be dressed because I wasn’t twisted up like a pretzel and could maneuver my arms into my dressing gown after I called St. Mungo’s.” 

The mediwitch pressed both thumbs into the small of Harry’s back just above his arse. Harry wailed. She seemed to have an uncanny ability to make the pain much, much worse and find the exact spots that amped up the torture tenfold.

“Mr. Snape, it would help with my diagnosis if you’d describe for me exactly how this happened.” The mediwitch was professional and direct.

Severus extended her the same courtesy. 

“My husband demanded a solid buggering. He was flouncing around the flat in a tight t-shirt and a pair of shorts so small they are likely illegal in most countries.”

“So – you were engaged in intercourse when Harry injured himself?” she asked as she moved her attention to Harry’s knees, which he’d drawn up to his chest. She tapped sharply on one and frowned.

“Do you really need to know that?” grunted Harry.

“I need to know _exactly_ what position you were in when the injury occurred,” she answered, somewhat tersely. “And it would help my diagnosis to understand what _precisely_ was happening to your body at the time of the injury.” 

“Would a muscle relaxing potion be out of order?” Severus asked as Harry glared at the mediwitch through his grimace of pain. “I have a supply, of the same stock I sell to St. Mungo’s.”

“Class five?”

“Of course.”

Harry did not trust anything with the ‘class five’ appellation unless he had a hangover from hell. He tried to turn his head away when Severus offered him the potion, but his neck twinged, and the mediwitch used the distraction to pull one of his legs down and away from his stomach. Most of the potion went in when he opened his mouth to scream.

From that point forward, all the way through the transport to St. Mungo’s and his treatment at the sports injury trauma ward, he was fully conscious but could do little more than blink his eyes and drool.

At least the pain abated.

His hearing, unfortunately, was uncompromised.

Thus he was a very reluctant audience to Severus’ scientific and factual recounting of this particular act of sexual congress – which did begin, he had to admit, with him flouncing about in the clothes he wore to Quidditch practice to provoke Severus into throwing him onto the bed and fucking him into tomorrow.

“He has never had issues with flexibility before today,” Severus explained to the mediwitch as she levitated Harry onto the floating stretcher that had popped out of the Floo behind her. “When I slide his arse and hips up on my thighs, he is fully capable of bending his legs back until his knees touch the bed beside his ears.”

“And does Mr. Potter stretch beforehand?”

Harry’s head flopped to the side on a neck so relaxed it was like rubber as the mediwitch secured the first of several wide straps to hold him on the gurney. 

“Do you think me such a heathen that I would take him unprepared?” Severus looked positively indignant.

“No – Mr. Snape – you misunderstand.” She wasn’t even the least bit red in the face, Harry noted, though his foggy brain could be deceiving him. “Does Mr. Potter stretch his legs? His back? Does he do calisthenics of any sort to prepare before you bend him in half and sodomize him?”

Harry giggled. He’d never heard the word sodomize used by a very severe looking middle-aged witch. Severus glared at him, but otherwise remained oddly silent for a long while. Finally, he sighed 

“No. I do not believe he does. He is an Auror – as I am sure you already know. He is active throughout the day. I doubt stretching is strictly necessary, given his physical condition.”

“Hmm.” She fastened another strap – this one over his thighs. “And is this the only sexual position you favour?”

They stared at each other again. Severus finally spoke, voice cold and hard.

“No.” 

She stared at him, raising an eyebrow.

Severus lowered his voice. Harry tried not to giggle. He could tell Severus was going in for the kill.

“Sometimes I take him over my desk, and sometimes he rides me. When I’m feeling especially agile, I’ll let him top. He is most fond of taking me against the wall – I wrap my legs around his waist and….”

“He supports all your weight, then?” 

_Snap!_ She affixed the last strap. Thank Merlin for the muscle relaxant. He’d be in misery lying flat like this if Severus’ potion hadn’t sent most of his brain cells on vacation.

“Some of it, of course. But the wall does most of the work.” Something soft dabbed at his mouth and Harry realized Severus had wiped away some drool. He was oddly touched by this show of affection and rubbed his drooly mouth against the back of Severus’ hand. 

Severus discreetly rubbed his hand against the sheet.

“I don’t see how this is relevant. We had an unusually rigorous sexual encounter. Mr. Potter strained his back. It is not newsworthy, nor is it particularly troubling. I am quite sure this happens all the time.”

The mediwitch pursed her lips but didn’t comment. “I noted that Mr. Potter’s buttocks are bruised,” she said as she adjusted the strap around Harry’s chest. 

“His buttocks?” Severus was apparently having trouble with this shift from Harry’s back to a different part of his anatomy altogether.

Harry tried to squirm. He managed to move his hand and pluck weakly at the restraints. His buttocks had been pleasantly warm and tingly before his back had spasmed, and he suddenly missed the feeling.

“Yes. _Mr. Potter’s_ buttocks. They’ve sustained bruising.”

“Ah. Of course.” Severus slid sideways into lecturing professor mode. “They have indeed. I paddled him earlier this morning. I didn’t think it wise, since he’d been an arse all week and really didn’t deserve it, but he begged, and I relented.”

The mediwitch pulled up the strap over Harry’s groin, testing the tension, then let it snap back in place. Harry winced.

“Is there any reason, Mr. Snape, that you did not give Mr. Potter the muscle relaxant _before_ I arrived?” She sounded very stern, Harry thought. Rather like Professor McGonagall on a very bad day.

“There most certainly is.” Harry couldn’t quite focus on Severus’ face, but he heard the disapproval in his voice. “Mr. Potter was curled up into a ball screaming ‘Don’t touch me! Call St. Mungo’s!’”

“Waz no’,” mumbled Harry. “Tol’ you t’call Poppy.”

“You are no longer a student at Hogwarts. We are not going to bother Poppy every time you sustain a minor injury.”

“This is hardly minor,” stated the mediwitch.

Severus wheeled on her. His voice was icy and cold as steel.

“And if you are insinuating that I am in any way abusive to Mr. Potter –”

_Oh fuck,_ thought Harry. Then he giggled. The class five muscle relaxant made everything extra funny. 

“I’m just doing my job,” was her curt reply. She tightened the strap across Harry’s legs – again – then glanced sideways at Severus and pulled a champagne cork from her pocket. She dropped it on Harry’s chest, where is rolled to his navel and stopped.

“The Portkey activates in thirty seconds,” she said, sounding as though she had a very bad case of gas and was trying not to let it out. 

Severus pressed his thumb against the cork and took Harry’s hand.

“He’s not ‘busive,” Harry said. Loudly. Too loudly. Severus’ fingers squeezed his. Tightly.

The emergency mediwitch stared at him and raised an eyebrow. Her index finger came down on the cork beside Severus’. “Oh?” she said.

Harry’s “I like my nipple claaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamps!” was half-swallowed by the tug of the Portkey.

ooOooo

“I can’t believe this.” Harry dropped the scroll he was clutching. It curled back up into the tight roll he’d removed from the Ministry owl moments earlier and rolled under Severus’ chair. “It’s bullshit!”

Severus Summoned the parchment and, giving Harry a speculative look, unrolled it, smoothing it out on the table. 

“A home visit? That’s … no. Severus – ugh.” Harry dropped into the chair across from his husband and stared at him while he read. Severus’ face remained expressionless, but when he rolled up the parchment and placed it carefully on the table beside him, he looked at Harry appraisingly.

“I don’t see that we have many options, Harry. You want to keep your job, I take it?”

Harry snatched the scroll up. “Yes I want to keep my job. But what we do at home behind closed doors is none of the Ministry’s business! They have no right to send anyone here to….to….” He floundered, then sank onto the chair opposite Severus’. 

“To demonstrate proper body mechanics for specific sexual acts and assess the overall safety of our sexual practices,” Severus intoned. 

“Right. That.” Harry leapt to his feet again. “I’m sure there’s no precedent – they’re just making this up.”

“They reference a specific MLE policy,” Severus countered. “And the notice was hardly threatening – it’s simply Ministry bureaucracy. You had a serious at-home injury and were off work for a week. I’m sure the intent of the ridiculous policy is to minimize employee absences.”

“Since when are you the voice of reason?” Harry pushed his hair back from his eyes and shook his head in frustration. “It’s usually you who rants on about the stupidity of Ministry policies when you can’t get an ingredient you need.”

“I simply don’t see an alternative,” Severus answered. “Schedule this ridiculous appointment so we can get it out of the way and get on with our lives.” 

Harry sighed but, when he looked up at Severus, he was smiling.

“And get on with other things too?” he asked hopefully.

Severus kept a straight face as Harry grinned.

“Maybe. But perhaps you shouldn’t mention your favorite fantasy – I’m sure they’d frown on you being tied spread-eagle to my desk wearing nothing but your Gryffindor tie around your cock.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and bit his bottom lip. “Merlin – Severus. _Stop_ that.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Or better yet, your ‘I’ve been a bad boy, Dr. Snape, putting things up my arse that don’t belong there’ fantasy.”

Harry grinned. “That’s your fantasy, not mine, and I’m not the one scouring Muggle sex toy catalogues for anal beads.”

They locked gazes for a moment, and now Severus was the one shifting in his seat.

“Remind me of the restrictions.” Severus spread his legs slightly and sighed.

Harry sighed. “As if you of all people don’t remember them.”

“Humour me.”

Harry held up his hand and started ticking off on his fingers. “No penetrative sex for two weeks, and it’s been eleven days.”

“Of course. And?”

“I’m not to lift anything heavier than four kilos.”

“Hmm.” Severus appeared to be doing quick mental calculations.

“I’m not to be ‘manipulated’ into any position I can’t attain on my own and hold – on my own – for three minutes.”

Severus sighed. “Pity.”

“No squatting.”

“And…?”

“No kneeling.”

“And….?”

Harry pursed his lips, considering, then shook his head. “That’s it.”

Severus stood.

“Fellatio it is, then. You’ll lie flat on your back and I’ll straddle your chest and grip the headboard.”

“Wow. How spontaneous,” deadpanned Harry. But he stood willingly enough, and followed Severus into their bedroom.

ooOOOoo

Harry sat nervously on the sofa facing the fireplace, a full fifteen minutes before the Ministry therapist was due to arrive. He’d been antsy all morning – even though the day had started off with Severus giving him a rather spectacular hand job in the shower. He’d finally settled down facing the Floo, and had been staring at it for a good ten minutes when it finally flared up.

He stood and wiped his sweaty palms against his robes.

_Aww fuck!_ No. No fucking way.

“Malfoy? What are you doing here?”

“Good Morning to you, too, Potter. I have an appointment with you.” Draco Malfoy, looking fresh as a daisy in crisp uniform robes, shoved a piece of parchment at Harry. “You signed it. All official.” 

“But – no.” Harry stared from the form in his hands to Malfoy and back to the form again. “No. You’re not – I didn’t know that – just … just no. No.”

“Eloquent as usual.”

“I thought you were doing something with Quidditch.” Harry folded his arms and glared at Malfoy. “Equipment boy for the Cannons?”

“Very funny, Potter.” He puffed up a bit, as if he was about to deliver a very important piece of news. Harry was immediately reminded of Percy Weasley. “I’m doing my residency at St. Mungo’s,” Malfoy bragged. He shoved a business card at Harry. “Here.”

“Those aren’t Healer’s robes,” Harry said, barely glancing at the lime green card as he took in the full spectacle of Draco Malfoy in his sitting room. “Those are pink!”

“Salmon,” corrected Malfoy coldly. “I’m in Outpatient Services, Potter.”

Harry grinned. “I think you just like pink robes.”

“Read the card Potter.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “St. Mungo’s Outpatient Domestic Rehabilitation Services.” He frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Home-based physical rehab following injuries, you moron,” Malfoy answered. “Turn the card over.”

Harry turned the card over. “WOW Division?”

“Wizard on Wizard,” said Malfoy smugly. “It’s the last specialty area on my rotation.”

“Oh great – practicing on us,” said Harry, throwing the card aside. 

“I’m fully trained in all aspects of home-based injuries, including a full range of sex acts gone wrong.”

“There was nothing wrong with our sex act!” Harry shouted.

Malfoy ignored him. “No use wasting time. I’d like to get this over so I can get back, write the report, then Obliviate myself. Where’s your bedroom?”

“Back here, Mr. Malfoy.”

Severus had been working in his office, patiently awaiting the arrival of the Ministry trainer, and he appeared now, suspiciously close on the heels of Harry’s outburst. Malfoy walked forward to greet him. 

“Professor – ”

“I’m no longer a professor, Mr. Malfoy. For the purposes of this visit, which will, of course, remain professional for its entirety, you may call me Mr. Snape.”

Harry choked back a chortle.

“Fine.” Malfoy remained unfazed. “ _Mr._ Snape, _Mr._ Potter, we prefer to conduct these visits in the bedroom – I’m sure I don’t need to explain why. So – ” He looked inquiringly at Severus, ignoring Harry altogether.

“Mr. Potter and I conduct some of our sexual activities in the bedroom, true,” Severus stated in a smooth voice coated with a layer of oily venom. “However, we are just as likely to utilize my office, the bathroom, the sitting room – or any other suitable horizontal or vertical surface in the flat – yes, even the ceiling, once or twice, with the help of a nice Anti-Gravity Spell. So, while I am not opposed to beginning this session in the bedroom, I do expect you’ll help us devise back-friendly methods of enjoying ourselves on the kitchen table as well as in our rather ordinary bed.”

Harry muffled another bark of laughter by biting his hand. If Malfoy thought their bed was ordinary, he was in for a surprise.

As Malfoy and Severus faced each other, Malfoy looked him in the eye, and Harry reminded himself not to forget that Draco Malfoy was every bit as Slytherin as Severus himself.

“I’m certain I can accommodate _all_ your needs,” Malfoy said. Harry thought he sounded cocky.

“Why did they send you?” Harry blurted as he followed Severus and Malfoy into their bedroom. He nearly ran into Malfoy, who had stopped just inside the doorway.

“Like what you see, Malfoy?” he asked. 

Malfoy’s head was tipping back, undoubtedly to take in the entire bed – a king-sized ironwork monstrosity with vining scrollwork forming a canopy overhead. Very solid-looking support bars, designed to integrate with the woodland theme, and strong enough to support thirty stone, ran both horizontally and vertically above. The simple bedding was a deep green, and there was a preponderance of pillows of all shapes and sizes, including a few wedge-shaped cushions.

Malfoy swallowed and squared his shoulders.

“Right.” He flicked his hand and his wand fell into it. “Sit on the bed. Side by side, please. We’ll begin with some screening questions.” He drew a rectangle in the air with his wand – Harry thought the flaming edges were overkill - and reached through it to extract a heavy book out of the air. He supported the book against his chest and opened it slowly and dramatically, so that the pages faced Harry and Severus. With a flick of his finger, a Dictation Quill and magical parchment appeared at his right elbow.

“For each illustration, you will respond Often, Sometimes, Rarely or Never.”

“Rarely,” Harry and Severus said together without further instruction.

Malfoy glanced down at the book as if to check that he’d opened it to the correct page.

“Standard missionary position, face to face, rarely,” he repeated for the Dictation Quill.

Harry’s hand found Severus’. So far, this wasn’t nearly as humiliating as he’d imagined. 

Malfoy turned the page.

“Sometimes.” 

Malfoy glanced down again.

“Standard riding position, facing forward, sometimes, Potter on top,” he dictated.

“Hey!” protested Harry. “No one said I’m on top.”

“Oh, please, Potter,” Malfoy said as he turned the page.

Severus squeezed Harry’s hand. Hard.

“Often.” Harry glanced at Severus and grinned. Severus’ free hand snaked around his waist and insinuated itself between his bum and the mattress.

“Modified missionary position, submissive party in acute-angle sandwich position, often.”

“Submissive party?” Harry said. 

“I agree with Mr. Potter,” said Severus. “Mr. Potter is hardly the submissive party when he is ordering me to bugger him through the headboard.”

Thirty minutes later, Harry and Severus were shifting uncomfortably on the bed while Malfoy shoved the book back through the magical portal.

“That was illuminating,” Severus said. Harry felt him squeeze his buttocks together and press his hip against Harry’s.

“What was the name of that book?” Harry asked. 

Malfoy glared at him. “It’s a medical book, Potter. You can’t have a copy for your wank fantasies.” 

“Mr. Malfoy,” warned Severus in a voice that could easily have come from the Potions classroom. 

Malfoy changed the subject. “Well, that certainly was interesting. Sixteen Oftens, fourteen Sometimes, six Seldoms and zero Nevers. Congratulations – you’re the first couple – ever – to have tried every position in the book.”

“We’ve actually tried a few you didn’t have.” Harry wondered why Malfoy’s book, which had actually been rather thorough, didn’t feature one of his favorite positions – Severus sucking the tip of his cock while pounding into him in what Malfoy called the “sandwich” position.

Malfoy didn’t comment. He waited in silence until Harry shifted on the bed. “Fully half of the positions I showed you are considered dangerous from a skeletal-muscular perspective,” he exclaimed suddenly. He walked around the bed, running his hand along the framework and examining the latticed canopy. “And from what I gather, I haven’t begun to scratch the surface with you two.” He stopped at the corner of the bed and reached up, pulling at a braided silk rope that hung discreetly along the bedpost. He looked from the rope to Harry and Severus, shaking his head.

“Who knew?” he muttered.

“Our sex life is no one’s business but our own.” Severus gave Harry’s hand one last squeeze and stood. He folded his arms and glared at Malfoy. “We have agreed to this visit because of existing Ministry policy regarding injuries that waylay Aurors for more than a week. We are _hoping_ that you can actually help us, Mr. Malfoy, as we are eager to resume our _normal_ activities, which have been curtailed for thirteen days already. So – body mechanics, Mr. Malfoy? Instead of fantasizing about how, exactly, I use that rope on Mr. Potter, you might try instructing us on how to prevent future injuries such as the one Harry suffered.”

Malfoy sputtered.

“I’m not – not fantasizing,” he protested.

“You’d better not be,” Harry warned. He suddenly wondered if Malfoy really had been, or if Severus was just egging him on. 

“Let’s start with the standard rear-entry doggy style penetrative position.” Malfoy released the silk rope and was suddenly all business. “Potter – get on the bed and get into position. Snape…er…Mr. Snape, stay there until I instruct you further.” He stood against the far side of the bed and waited as Harry, nudged forward by Severus, reluctantly climbed onto the bed and assumed the position – on his knees with his legs spread, head against the mattress.

“Hurry up – this isn’t the most comfortable position fully clothed,” complained Harry. Really, it was rather humiliating to assume this particular position with one’s school nemesis present.

“Mr. Snape – will you please demonstrate your posture when you engage in sex in this position with Potter?”

Harry watched Severus give Malfoy the death glare before he deliberately took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, kneeling behind Harry and grasping his hips.

Harry couldn’t help it. He pressed back against Severus. Fuck – it had been so _long!_ He just hoped Malfoy didn’t notice.

“Do you normally give him a good pounding?” Malfoy asked, his voice a bit breathy.

“Of course I do,” snipped Severus. “He demands it.”

Harry turned his head to the other side so he could watch Malfoy. Severus was leaning against him and it was getting to be a bit much. He was beginning to harden already and he definitely didn’t need Malfoy to notice _that._

“Do you push him forward and pull him back onto your erection, or do you hold him steady and pound into him by pistoning your hips?” Malfoy seemed to be struggling to keep his voice steady.

Harry quickly turned his head and buried his face in the mattress. _Pistoning!_ He felt each one of Severus’ fingers as they tightened on his hips, pressing into his flesh. He could almost feel Severus’ cock breaching him - _almost._ Merlin he wanted it. Did Malfoy have any _idea_ how long it had been for them? Well- in relation to how frequently they had sex, anyway?

“I hardly see how that matters, Mr. –”

“It matters,” Malfoy interrupted. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

And then, before Harry knew what was happening, Severus was standing beside the bed and Draco Malfoy was kneeling on the bed behind him.

“Hey!” Harry crawled forward as Malfoy gripped his hips. “Severus! Get him off me!”

“How am I supposed to teach you proper positions if I can’t demonstrate them?” exclaimed Malfoy. He was clearly irritated. Or frustrated. Yes, that was it. _Sexually_ frustrated. Definitely wasn’t getting what he needed at home.

“I don’t know – draw pictures?”

“Humour him, Harry,” Severus said. “I have an idea he won’t leave until he accomplishes what he was sent to do. Plus – I’m finding this session rather educational.” He emphasized “educational” in such a way that Harry knew he had ideas – there would definitely be side benefits if he complied. Still….

“But he’s rubbing against me. I could practically feel his prick!” 

“Honestly, Harry? Do you have any idea what a sight you are positioned like that? We cannot fault Mr. Malfoy for finding you arousing. However, I assure you that he is fully dressed and will remain so, and if necessary, I will fetch an impotency potion for him.”

“What?” Malfoy whirled to face Severus. His erection – yes, that absolutely was an erection not at all discreetly hiding inside his trousers – grazed Harry’s bum.

“Think about Goyle,” Harry muttered.

Malfoy pulled at the bottom of Harry’s robes and pushed them up onto his back, then settled his hands back on Harry’s hips.

“Before any penetration of any type, whether it be with another penis, sex toy, garden vegetable, or other penis-shaped object such as a pestle, remember that LESS is MORE,” Malfoy intoned seriously, as if reciting lines in a Shakespearian tragedy. 

“You’ve given some thought to penetrative items,” Severus noted. 

“I’ve seen it all in this rotation,” muttered Malfoy.

“Oh, I doubt that,” returned Severus.

Harry, for his part, was running through a mental list of garden vegetables. Pestles were old news around the Snape-Potter household.

“LESS,” Malfoy repeated. He inched forward until his thighs were pressed against Harry’s. Harry wiggled forward and Severus stepped up closer, put a hand on his shoulder, and stopped his movements.

“Let’s hear what Mr. Malfoy has to say, shall we?” he suggested.

“L is for Lubricate,” Malfoy stated, stressing the initial ‘L’ sound. He reached into his pocket and extracted a squat opaque jar, which he threw to Severus. Harry turned his head to see and winked at Severus as Severus raised an eyebrow. He pocketed the jar, then walked to the bedside table, yanked out the drawer, and dumped the contents on the bed beside Harry.

“Alright then,” Malfoy sputtered. “Looks like you’ve got lubrication covered.” 

Severus took out his wand and soon had the drawer flying back into place, followed by the dozen varieties of lubricant.

“Obviously, adequate lubrication isn’t an issue,” Malfoy said, clearing his throat as he spoke. “Moving on – Stretch.”

“What about ‘E’?” asked Harry.

“E?” Malfoy sounded annoyed.

“You said LESS is MORE. We assumed you would be giving us four directives, as the word ‘less’ has four letters.” 

Harry knew Severus was being deliberately obtuse. Malfoy, apparently, did not.

“There is no E. Vowels don’t count.”

“I want an E,” Harry complained. “I’ll remember all this better if we have a full word.”

“E, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Fine. Everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” exclaimed Harry. “That’s the best you can do?”

“Lubrication EVERYWHERE before you STRETCH.”

Harry snickered.

“Stretching really isn’t an issue with us either,” Severus explained. He pointed his wand to the bed stand on the opposite side of the bed. A drawer slid open and floated out toward Malfoy. Malfoy plucked it out of the air and looked inside. He sighed.

“Surprise, surprise,” he said. He placed the drawer on the bed beside Harry and reached into his pocket again, this time extracting a pair of latex gloves. He snapped them onto his hands, then used his wand tip to lift out an enormous flesh-coloured butt plug. “This thing looks big enough for Hagrid,” Malfoy said. He sounded horrified. He looked at Severus sternly. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to confiscate this and establish a maximum insertion circumference and penetration depth for Mr. Potter. If you continue to use toys like this so recklessly, you’re likely to cause him serious internal damage and stretch his muscles so much they’ll lose their elasticity.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest but caught Severus’ eye and closed his mouth without speaking. Severus had that look – the one that told Harry he was going to enjoy the next few minutes.

“And how will you determine what size is appropriate for Mr. Potter?” Severus asked. His hands were folded across his chest again and he looked every bit the stern Potions master of yesteryear.

“We have a formula, of course,” Malfoy replied. “It’s based on the subject’s height and weight, then adjusted upward or downward based on a physical examination of the subject and his partner. Very precise measurements are required.”

“Am I to assume that you yourself will be taking these measurements?” Severus’ voice had a lethal silkiness that made Harry’s already interested prick harden further. His voice rose progressively in pitch and volume as he spoke. “That you do, in fact, expect that we will remove our clothing and submit to this blatant invasion of privacy?”

Harry felt Malfoy shift behind him. 

In response, Malfoy used his wand to fish out another object from the toy drawer. Harry turned his head to get a look. Ahh. The beads. Malfoy was holding up Severus’ favorite set of anal beads. They hadn’t used that particular set in some time. Harry looked back down, shut his eyes and squeezed his buttocks together, trying to will away the extremely arousing thought of Severus working the beads into his arse. 

“This last one is as big as a Bludger!” exclaimed Malfoy. “There’s no possible way you can use this on a human! If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect you were getting it on with a Hippogriff!”

Severus reached over and grabbed Malfoy’s wrist. The beads fell onto the bed beside Harry, who gave up on holding the position and dropped down onto his stomach, then flipped over to watch.

“I believe we’re owed one more S,” Severus drawled.

“S?” Malfoy looked confused for a moment, then drew himself together. “Of course – Stabilization.” He glared at Harry. “Back into position, Potter. This one is important.”

“The others aren’t, then?” asked Harry hopefully.

“Of course the others are, but it doesn’t look like you have a problem with lubrication since you’ve got enough lube in that drawer to open a Muggle pharmacy.” He pushed at the toy drawer. “And if Big Bertha here is any indication, you’ve got stretching covered, too.” Malfoy slapped him on the hip. “On your hands and knees, Potter.” He waited while Harry complied. “Now grasp the headboard with both hands and move forwards until your arms are comfortable.”

Harry swiveled his head to give Malfoy a perfunctory glare, then did as directed. Fortunately, their headboard was designed to provide these handholds – with sturdy vertical slats that were often used for some very nice fur-lined restraints – so he grasped the slats and locked his elbows. 

Damn. No chance of knocking his head against the headboard again and again with his body stabilized like this.

“So – Pro…Mr. Snape.” Malfoy’s hands were back on Harry’s hips. “Stability.” He stressed the second syllable. “Potter – relax, will you? Stable is not the same as tense. Assume a comfortable position and _hold_ it.” The hands on his hips moved in light circles. “Good. Good.” Malfoy then began thrusting softly against him in slow motion, exaggerating the movements. “The key, Mr. Snape, is to hold Mr. Potter steady. Do not jerk him back against you. Do not push him away. Do the work with your own body. Every position has an active and a passive position, with the active position doing the work.”

“That’s not exactly true,” protested Harry.

“Fine, fine. We understand,” commented Severus, rather loudly, and Harry took his clue and stopped talking. “Now, are you going to pretend to bugger my husband much longer? He’s really quite sensitive to even the most minute stimulation – he’s going to be nearly insatiable by the time you leave.”

And indeed, Harry was finding just the _suggestion_ of being penetrated nearly too much to take. His cock was starting to strain upward. He choked back the moan that was creeping up his throat, but despite his best efforts, it escaped into the air. He throttled it with a long “Fuck! Severus!”

But it wasn’t Severus who rutted against him, pulling his hips back.

“Hey! Stability, remember? You’re supposed to be doing the work, Malfoy!”

Everything stopped. Malfoy’s movements. The light movement of the air. Severus’ breathing.

“I mean – Merlin, Severus!” Harry rolled away from Malfoy and scuttled to the head of the bed. He looked at Severus imploringly. “Get Malfoy off our bed and send him back to St. Mungo’s so we can practice what he’s taught us.”

“Not so fast!” shouted Malfoy as Harry, his back feeling just fine now that he thought about it, rolled toward Severus and struggled up to his feet beside him.

“Mr. Malfoy – this entire experience has been…trying.” Severus rubbed his thumbs into his eyes and blinked. “So far, we have learned nothing but a ridiculous mnemonic device that is seriously lacking in relevance to our particular needs.”

“Do you think it’s fun for me?” exclaimed Malfoy. “Do you know why I’m here and not one of my co-workers?”

“Because you requested this assignment,” Harry said. It was an “Aha!” moment for him. “You’ve been looking forward to humiliating me for years, haven’t you?”

“You? Humiliate _you_?” Malfoy swiveled his head to look at Severus and, for the first time, reacted to his formidable presence and visibly cringed. “For your information, I was given this assignment because I’m the junior member of the department. No one in their right mind would want to face Severus Snape under these circumstances - everyone used their seniority to get out of it. That left me – the resident resident. In what world, Potter, would _anyone_ want to demonstrate safe sexual body mechanics to their former professor and headmaster and the bloody BOY WHO LIVED?”

“This has gone on long enough,” Severus said, seizing control of the situation and managing to sound both threatening and sexy. “Let’s get to the point. What will it take, Mr. Malfoy, to end this now and procure a medical clearance from you so Harry can return to work?”

Malfoy stared at Severus for a very long moment. He blinked. He glanced once again at Harry, who smiled and waved.

Harry saw it when the Knut dropped. Malfoy smiled – or attempted a smile, anyway. He looked pretty much as he might have had he come upon a group of Gryffindors pinned down by Devil’s Snare. Pleased with himself. And evil – very evil.

Malfoy, it turned out, was a poor negotiator. Harry propped a couple of pillows behind his back and leaned against the headboard, watching the show. He had a sudden hankering for popcorn.

“Alright . Let me tie Potter to the headboard and fuck him while you watch.”

“No.”

Malfoy looked like Christmas had been canceled. “Fine – he doesn’t have to be tied up….”

“No.” Severus’ voice was a bit louder this time.

Malfoy’s brow furled. He looked like he was sweating. “A threesome then? I fuck Potter while you fuck me?”

“No.” Severus’ mouth was a thin, tight line of glowering disapproval. Apparently, Malfoy, once on a roll, did not know when to stop and hadn’t yet seen the common thread to which Severus objected.

“Alright, alright.” Malfoy bit his bottom lip and stared at Harry lasciviously. He smirked and straightened his back. “Potter sucks me off while you fuck him.”

Harry and Severus exchanged a quick glance. This was the first suggestion that did not involve Malfoy shagging Harry. But Severus shook his head.

“Try again, Mr. Malfoy.”

Malfoy took a deep breath. “We both fuck Potter at the same time?”

Severus shook his head slowly. “As intriguing as that sounds – no. I’m beginning to think you’ve an unhealthy obsession with my husband, Mr. Malfoy and his arse, which, by the way, is mine. Any more ideas?”

Malfoy’s eyes darted to Harry, who by now was looking extremely smug and more than a little turned on, then back at Severus. 

“I’ll make an offer, then,” Severus said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t tell your superiors about your behavior today provided you follow my instructions _to the letter_ for the next hour.”

Harry loosened the top buttons of his robe and relaxed, crossing his hands behind his head. He stretched deliberately, rather like a cat, and the fabric of his robes tightened across his chest.

He wetted his lips, then his hands moved to the closure of his trousers. He slipped open the fastening and paused, hand on his zip.

“Well, Mr. Malfoy?”

Malfoy swallowed, staring at Harry, who casually let his knees fall open. He stammered.

“Nothing too kinky….”

“I make the rules, Mr. Malfoy.” Severus moved around the corner of the bed and stood behind Malfoy. He pressed up against the other man and nudged him forward. “Are you in – or are you out?”

“In,” squeaked Malfoy.

So quickly Harry could hardly follow the movement, Severus pulled down one of the restraints from the canopy and cuffed Malfoy’s left hand securely to the bedpost.

“You’ll be watching,” said Severus. “Feel free to correct our _body mechanics_.”

“I’m only going to watch?” whined Draco, tugging at his bound wrist.

“Only while I sate myself with Mr. Potter,” Severus purred, climbing up on the bed toward Harry. “Then it will be _his_ turn to play.”

ooOOOoo

“Surely you can fit one more?”

“Maybe if you come around down here and spread his legs further apart.”

Severus didn’t move. He lazily tweaked one of Malfoy’s nipples. Malfoy moaned so loudly the bed vibrated.

“Perhaps more lubrication.”

“I’ve already used an entire bottle of our best, Severus.” Harry tugged lightly at the strand of anal beads. Only the two largest beads remained on the outside. Malfoy, flat on his back, arse propped up in the air, arms trussed up to the headboard, let out another unearthly moan. He was rock hard, and unable to reach his own erection. 

“Perhaps you should have used the trainer set, as I suggested.”

“They’re red and gold, Severus. He’d have an allergic reaction.”

ooOOOoo

“Merlin’s Fucking Grandmother, he’s tight.” Harry, who was seldom on the giving end of a good buggering, pushed into Malfoy again. Malfoy was on his stomach, legs spread wide and hanging off the side of the bed, and Harry was standing behind him while Severus sat on a chair on the other side of the bed and watched, lazily stroking himself while Malfoy watched his dexterous hand moving up and down his long shaft.

“So good of you to help Harry out,” Severus said, eying Malfoy. “He’s out of practice – I haven’t felt like a good buggering in quite some time.”

Malfoy gave a series of undignified grunts as Harry continued to pound into him.

“You really do look fetching,” Severus continued. He squeezed the tip of his cock and his eyes slowly closed. “I think I’ll have you next.”

ooOOOoo

“I don’t think this position was in the book,” Harry moaned. “I didn’t…uhhhh…I didn’t even know….oh _fuck_ …that it was possible.”

“I think…we may be near…Mr. Malfoy’s…maximum penetrative circumference,” Severus panted, keeping up the rhythm they’d finally managed to establish.

“Fuck me fuck me fuck me auuuggghhh yeeeeesssssssss.” Malfoy let out a string of gibberish as Harry pushed up into him yet again, feeling the incredible slide of Severus’ cock alongside his own.

“It was his…his idea.…” Severus said. Harry had never seen him quite so affected by intercourse. “He explained…the position….”

“He must have another…another book…he kept from us,” Harry managed. He canted his hips up and groaned. If felt as though a tight vacuum was devouring his cock with a textured, silken glove. He actually thought he might die from pleasure. “Bastard! Where is this book?”

“Guhhhhhhhhhh,” replied Malfoy, reaching for his cock again. Harry cheerfully batted his hand away.

ooOOOoo

“Severus?”

Severus groaned and rolled over toward Harry. He pushed up on one elbow and glanced at the clock. Two thirty in the bloody morning.

“What do you want? And please do _not_ say more sex. I’m going to need a week to recuperate after allowing you to bugger me before we went to bed.”

“No – no more sex – though that was great. Really, really great.”

“Well, while I was not able to repeat Mr. Malfoy’s feat of achieving orgasm through anal intercourse alone, without being touched…it was still a pleasant enough experience.” 

“He definitely isn’t getting enough at home,” said Harry. He scooted forward until his forehead was resting against Severus’ shoulder. Severus wrapped a warm arm around him and kissed his temple. 

“Severus?”

Severus sighed again. “Yes?”

“My back hurts.”

_Fin_


End file.
